Passion
by x The Chichi Slaughter House x
Summary: From the beginning we held great passion for each other. Some people would call this hate, whereas others would call it love. As for me, I can tell you that the thin line between the two can sometimes be thinner than you would expect. GokuxVegeta[Oneshot]


**Passion**

By The Chichi Slaughter House

**Warnings:** Yaoi, GokuxVegeta(like I'd write anything else!), fluff, Goku pov, oneshot, may leave a sweet/bad taste in your mouth depending on your views(I suggest you keep a glass of water at hand), short and possibly completely pointless.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own…anything. I mean, seriously. If I owned stuff, I wouldn't be writing a fanfiction, and there'd probably be a GV yaoi film or anime series out. Oh, and Chichi wouldn't have been resurrected when Buu killed her.

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From the beginning, we held great passion for each other. Whenever both of us were in the same room, our eyes would meet, and hold; conveying our underlying feelings for one another that back then we did not recognise or understand. It used to get so intense that we had to tear our gazes away, without even knowing why, or the consequences of what would happen if we didn't.

Our feelings were much more notable when we were alone because it somehow got harder to stay there when such a time occurred; both of us pushing past and ignoring the other for as long as possible.

Some people would call this thing we experience hate, whereas others would call it love. As for me, I can tell you that the thin line between the two emotions can sometimes be thinner than you would expect, and things like an argument or a display of violence can result in something totally the opposite, such as a confession or a caress.

We had no idea, he and I, that the strong feelings we held were opposites to what we thought they were; always convincing ourselves with words that it was something different, or making up what we thought were valid excuses for the emotions not to be true. Friendship on my part, hate and jealousy on his. Of course, we wouldn't want to believe that we were attracted to each other, because for one thing, we had families and wives to look after, a planet to protect, and these things could be jeopardised by how we felt.

When a comrade falls in battle, the anger or pain is strong enough as it is, without it being someone you love with all your heart whose death could cause you to lose all the control you've ever possessed and destroy everything else mindlessly. Losing a friend wreaks agony on your heart; I've lost friends time and time again and the initial suffering never gets easier to bear. As for losing a lover…I would prefer not to know, lest my anger take such control of me that it would drive me insane and never let me go.

But now I don't have a choice; he is my friend – and now my lover too – and there is no way to protect him in battle unless I can force him not to fight, which is something that he does not want, would never consent to do, and would hate me for thinking, much less carrying out. He is so proud; has such faith in himself that the idea of me protecting him would probably make his blood boil with rage as he would assume that it was because I thought he were weak, not that I wouldn't be able to live without him.

The fact of the matter is that I am stronger than him, and as such, do have a higher chance of coming out of a battle unscathed than he does, but even if I had a million perfectly justifiable reasonable reasons to stop him from fighting, the truth is that I couldn't. Ignoring the fact that he would do it despite my wishes, I know that if I did it, I would be taking away his happiness, and his rights as a sentient being.

He is not weak, and no matter if he presumes so, I do not consider him as such. Though his power is not equal to mine, he is more than capable of protecting himself, and even others quite easily from many threats without anybodies' help, and I am almost sure that he is aware of this.

He tends to bite off more than he can chew at times, and sometimes ends up making a situation worse than it was before, but it is usually not more than we both can handle, so his determination and cockiness do not bother me, or give me pains.

In fact, I…rather like it.

I love to watch him move, see him conquering his enemies, seeing the smirk spread over his face as his power rises as the desire to fight takes control of him. He always has allowed himself to be a slave to his blood, as have I, yet he does it with much more finesse than I have been able to pull off and as much as he would hate to hear this, he is beautiful, and sometimes even more so when he is mad. I am incredibly lucky to have him, and as I look down at his body in my arms, I stare at his peaceful face, and as I look experience something welling inside me that makes me feel it all the more.

My thoughts, this feeling and the simple action of just looking at him has managed to stir my passion again, and even though I know he is sleeping, I move down to kiss him, waking him from his slumber once more as my hands stroke down his back teasingly. A grumbled curse and he is awake, hands pushing at my chest to stop me even though it is obvious that I do not want to, much less intend to. My hands reach his lower back, cupping his firm ass when he is awake enough to forcefully shove me away, my hands lingering around his hips as I do not wish to let go.

He is bruised in places, but that does not deter me from wanting to touch and hold him at all, just causing my want of those things to increase. Somewhat grumpily, he gives me an annoyed look, causing my playful hands to move from his warmth as if they had a mind of their own.

"Kakarott…" He warns, his low, sexy voice sending shivers of pleasure up my spine as I recall not too long ago when he was repeating it over and over with gasps for more, my eyes probably reflecting the desire I feel for him this moment. It is obvious that they do when he groans, rubbing a hand cross his face in a moody fashion. "Calm yourself down; I'd like to train tomorrow without a sore ass." A cheeky grin crosses my face as I stroke a hand over his hip too fast for him to stop me and purr.

"I'm sorry Vegeta, but I can't help it…" I'm not really sorry, of course; I want to 'play' and tease him all over again, licking my lips and stroking his hips again at the thought. However, instead of him giving in like I had hoped, he slaps my offending hand, looking angered.

"You'd better damn well learn to!" At this, I sigh and look down, knowing that he is serious, and even though I want to be able to change his mind, I refrain from touching him again, not wanting to suffer the same fate as before.

"Sorry." This time I am genuine, and I settle back down next to him, looking over his body once more before turning my gaze to the side. To my relief, his hand rubs the one of mine that he slapped and I feel him press to my side, causing me to feel calm.

"Later." All it takes is that one word and I am grinning again, looking back at his amused expression, feeling a little sheepish. I should really just let him sleep; we've already indulged in three rounds and a spar in the last few hours, and even my body is a little sore. From the look in his eyes, he knows that I went all-out for him; no holding myself back, and I know that it is with this knowledge that he allows me to hold him as we both fall asleep again.

I'm not going to let him go.

I hope he feels the same.


End file.
